Faith yipped as the first smack landed smartly across the center of her cheeks. Donavon had no intent on giving her the benefit of a warm up… he went straight to his purpose. Faith was kicking and wiggling within the first five spanks, trying desperately to escape the heavy hand that scorched her small behind so efficiently.
“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Faith called out as each smack landed with accurate determination.
“Smarts, doesn’t it?” Donavon asked, his hand rebounding off the jiggling flesh, leaving bright red fingerprints. “You wanted to get your way and now you get to pay the price. Every night for the next week, you will be feeling my hand on your little rump.”
“Noooo,” Faith cried, kicking even harder. “I just wanted to be with you!”
“Oh, and you will be. I should ground you to the room for the entire trip, but we both know how miserable you will make me.”
“Stop! That’s enough!” Faith begged as his hand focused on spanking just her right cheek.
“It’s enough when I say it’s enough. One day you are going to learn that when I tell you something, it is not up for negotiation,” Donavon announced, his hand plummeting on the other side.
“I’m sorrrrrry!” Faith sobbed, starting to tired herself out as she struggled against him.
“You should be sorry,” Donavon said firmly, smacking her upper thighs and eliciting a squeal. “You should also be grateful that it’s my hand delivering this punishment and not my belt.”
“I’ll be good! I promise!” Faith wept, finally starting to go limp. “I’m sorry.”
“You are to stand in the corner with that bottom bared until I tell you to move, young lady. When I let you out, you are to write me a three-page essay on how you I expect you to behave and why. Printed neatly, in pen, with no mistakes.”
“Three pages? I can’t…” Faith sobbed. Donavon spanked her briskly ten more times, gaining her cooperation. He pointed to the corner after standing her up and stood with his hands on his hips as she shuffled to it, her stride hindered by the straight leg jeans around her ankles. Slowly, she gathered her t-shirt around her waist, her bright red derrière glowing like a street lamp.
He released her thirty minutes later and made her sit on the hard, wood chair of the desk. Her sniffles and whimpering did not soften him as he informed her that she would stay in that spot until the essay was done and read. It took her nearly two hours between bouts of crying and begging, but she finished.
Donavon sent her back to the corner and settled on the bed to read. “I must say, Miss Faith, that I am very impressed. I can’t remember the last time I read such an amazing work of fiction! And all the excuses as to why you are unable to behave yourself are undeniably inventive. I want you to start working on your book. Come over here.”
Faith kept her face to the floor as she approached him, the defiance momentarily well spanked out of her. He pulled her onto his lap as he leaned back against the headboard.
“I love you,” he said softly, wrapping his heavy arms around her shoulders.
“Love you too,” Faith said without enthusiasm.
“You just don’t like me very much right now. I’m okay with that. In fact, I’m getting used to it,” Donavon said cheerfully, stroking her arm.
Faith simply grunted. He might be getting used to it, but her bottom certainly was not.
Donavon was, if anything, a man true to his word. Every night for the following week began with Faith being placed, face down and bare bottomed, over his thick thighs for a brisk session with his tireless palm. It also ended up in hours of torrid lovemaking that left her as satiated as she was sore.
“I’m going to need a vacation after this week,” Donavon said as he lifted Faith up along the length of his shaft as she straddled his cock while facing him.
“You wouldn’t be as tired if you didn’t spend that time and energy spanking me,” Faith remarked.
“Spanking you takes less energy from me as it does you. I’ve never seen anyone kick and fight so much. You will never escape, you know.”
“A girl’s gotta try. Oh…” Faith moaned as he slid himself deeply into her and held her down on top of him. His cock swelled and stiffened within her body, pulsating with need for release. With a groan, his hot, thick juices bathed her womanhood, coating her with his seed. She could not delay her pleasure any longer and touched her clit, instantly bringing herself to a glorious climax that left her breathless.
Donavon lifted her from his lap and tossed her onto the bed, placing her on her hands and knees with her pink rose bud winking seductively. He bathed the head of his cock with their combined juices and pressed against her tight hole, sliding himself inside in a single lunge. Faith cried out in delight as she engulfed him, her sore bottom jutting and rubbing against his thighs as he begin to furiously pump in and out. He clutched her hips possessively as he rammed his rod into the depths of her bowels.
“Cum for me, baby,” he growled as his cock again began to swell. “Cum hard and don’t hold anything back!”
That was one order that Faith had no problem obeying.
CHAPTER 9
Letter # 7
“Mom?” Faith panted, clutching her swollen tummy. “I think it’s time.”
“You’re in labor? Okay, sweetheart, I’ll be there in five minutes to get you. Hang on, everything will be fine,” Marcy said excitedly.
Hope Noelle Fuller was born at 2:30 the morning of December 22. Faith counted out five fingers and five toes, a tiny button nose, pink rosebud lips and a set of lungs that would have made her daddy strut with pride.
“She’s beautiful,” Marcy said, cradling the bundle in her arms. “You did well, my dear.”
“Donavon would be so proud, wouldn’t he?” Faith said, stroking the velvety soft scalp of her newborn daughter.
“He certainly would. She looks like him, doesn’t she?” Marcy asked, touching the tiny cleft on Hope’s chin.
“How’s my little line-backer?” Nicholas asked, bursting into the room with Sylvia and Ray right behind him.
“We had a girl, dad!” Faith grinned, watching as Marcy handed the baby to him.
“A nine pound, two ounce girl! Look at all that hair. She looks like Don did when he was born, doesn't she?” Ray said to his wife.
Sylvia choked back tears, nodding as the baby was handed to her. Marcy wrapped her arm around the woman’s shoulders. “Faith and Hope are here with us. Believe in them, Syl. He’ll be home soon.”
“Donavon used to tell me that hope comes in small packages. He was right,” Faith said gently.
“Remember when he was little and started counting down the days until Christmas?” Sylvia asked Ray, resting the baby over her shoulder and rubbing her back. “Everything was the night before…”
“Oh yeah,” Ray laughed. “So today would be the night before the night before the night before Christmas, or something like that.”
“Whatever it is, she is the most wonderful Christmas present we could ask for. Get some sleep, mommy. You deserve it,” Marcy said, kissing Faith’s forehead. “I brought this for you. This way he could be with you tonight.”
In her hand was the seventh letter.
My precious Faith,
I was thinking about the name your parents blessed you with, one that stood strong and powerful against all odds, but was also so fragile and tender. My Faith, you are what allows me to get through the days we are apart with a smile still in my heart. I have Faith… to come home to… to love… to cherish. What a precious gift Faith is.
And then Hope. Again, the wisdom your parents had in that name. Hope is what keeps us clinging to the good when things look bad. When I met you, I learned what hope truly meant to me. You gave me hope… for love… for a future… for happiness.
And now, here you are, giving me the gift that comes with being faithful and hopeful… you’ve given me life, my love.
Please tell me that you are keeping up with your scrapbook album. I know how much pleasure th
at gives you. Just remember to seal these letters in the enveloped and away from ‘prying’ eyes. We don’t want to shock anyone with some of things I’ve mentioned, including my obsession with a certain part of your beautiful body!
Forever yours,
Don
* * * * *
Surrounded by the quietness of her home, Faith kissed the baby’s head before bringing her to her breast to nurse. She stroked the soft cheek with wonder. This little Hope was a Christmas miracle, born of love.
“Welcome home, my little love. It’s so quiet without the family all over the place, isn’t it? Don’t worry; your grandparents will be back in the morning. They just wanted to give us some time alone on our first night home together. Your daddy is going to spoil you worse than he spoils me,” Faith spoke soothingly to the suckling infant. “This is his picture? Isn’t he handsome? I am going to teach you everything I know so that when you get bigger, we can both give him a run for his money.”
Hope stared up into her face with trusting eyes, blinking innocently as the warm firelight flickered against her face.
“He’s a great guy. You are going to love him. I don’t know when he’ll be home, but I promise you, you will meet him and love him as much as I do.”
Hope gurgled, her little mouth reaching for the other breast.
“What a little piggy you are! You definitely have your daddy’s appetite. There is so much for me to tell you about him. He wanted me to write a book. I think I know what to call it. Eight Little Letters. Daddy always said that those are the most powerful little letters in the world, the ones that spell I Love You. It will be a love story… our love story.”
Hope’s tiny hand curled around her mother’s pinky, her grasp strong as Faith ran her thumb over the little knuckles.
“See this?” Faith opened the large photo album. “Daddy gave me this as a wedding present so I could put all my special memories in one place. Our hospital bracelets go here. See all those dried flowers? They will be with us forever, just like these letters. You won’t be allowed to read those until you are older and understand the special relationship Daddy and I have.” Faith chuckled, wondering how she would even begin to explain the contents of his letters to her.
Faith began to leaf through the album, feeling his presence almost as strongly as if he had been standing there next to them.
“He gave you to me, Hope. Now, more than ever, I have hope because of you. Now you and I have to hold onto hope for him, okay?” Faith lifted the infant to her shoulder, rubbing her back. She felt the little body grow heavy in her arms as Hope fell into a deep sleep. She lowered the baby to her chest, staring at the sweet face nestled on her sternum, the little arms pulled up to the sides of her head and the chubby body curled into a ball.
The fire crackled as the flames danced merrily in the hearth. Faith lifted one of her mother’s cookies to her mouth, savoring the gentle spice mixed with the sweet raisin. Little Hope’s nose wrinkled slightly, as though the infant smelled the aroma of her daddy’s favorite snack. She lifted Donavon’s picture to look into his smiling eyes.
“Soon, my darling. I know in my heart that you will be home.”
CHAPTER 10
The Final Letter…
Faith smiled as she watched Hope being passed around to every family member present in her parents’ home. Both families had taken great pains to gather together Christmas Eve, including Donavon’s parents, his brothers and their families. It was quite the circus, albeit a joyful one, and two-day old baby Hope gurgled as she was introduced to her numerous uncles, aunts and cousins. The house was decorated in ‘early ostentatiousness’ as her father described the myriad of lights, wreaths, decorations and lawn ornaments. The more he grumped about the flashy ornamentation, the more he was mercilessly teased by his sons, each knowing that he was responsible for the majority of the garish decor.
Of course, there were plates loaded with cookies, homemade fudge, divinity and other delectable sweets on every visible flat surface. Watchful parents kept a close eye on the younger children, not wanting them to overindulge in the goodies and spoil their dinner.
Marcy was in her element. Dressed like Mrs. Claus, she flitted around the kitchen like a hummingbird around a cluster of flowers. An enormous turkey stuffed with cornbread, water chestnut and cranberry stuffing nestled cozily in the oven; trays of freshly baked rolls and pies perched on cooling racks; mashed potatoes, gravy, sweet potato casserole, and steamed vegetables stayed warm in crockpots. There were deviled eggs, pickle platters, fruit and vegetable bowls, cheese and crackers, homemade persimmon jam and biscuits…. Everything and anything one would expect for such a gathering was there. Furniture was moved to accommodate tables and chairs, barely leaving enough room to squeeze by.
At the end of the long dining room table was Donavon’s place setting. Faith swallowed the lump in her throat as she glanced at the final letter that rested on his plate. It would be the last she would hear from him until he returned. Sadness filled her heart realizing how those eight little love letters had been her strength these last two months. She looked up as her mother placed Hope in her arms and leaned forward to kiss both their foreheads.
Loud, happy laughter filled the room as everyone found a place to sit. Faith barely tasted her food as she continued to glance at the empty place and the letter.
“Honey? Would you like to take that up to my room and read it?” Marcy asked, noticing Faith’s expression.
“Yes. Please, excuse me for a moment,” Faith said, gathering Hope to her heart and picking up the letter. She retreated to the quiet space at the far end of the house and settled upon the hand-quilted comforter of her parents’ bed. Slowly she opened the letter, sad to find that there was no special surprise inserted within.
My Sweetest Treasure,
This might be the last letter I get to write for a while. We are leaving tomorrow for the maneuvers and, from what I hear, there will not be time to do anything more than eat, sleep and work. The Captain said we are running logistics through the swamps. Lovely, right? More cold, wet nights… The good news is that after we are done, we are coming home!
I had a beautiful dream last night. We had a baby! A little girl and you named her Hope. That dream gave me the strength to know it’s only a matter of time now before I am again in your arms, kissing your lips and telling you how much I love you.
Again, those eight little letters… words that can heal the most broken of spirit and give life to those who are bleak. I know, I am becoming quite poetic in my misery. But my love for you had always brought out the very best in me. I love you, my darling. With all my heart. I’ll be home very, very soon. I promise.
Forever Yours,
Don
Faith read and re-read the letter until it was forever embedded in her memory. What will he say when he discovers that his dream came true? Faith released silent tears as she prayed for him to have that chance to know about his little Hope, to hold her in his arms, to whisper those eight little letters into her ear when he tucked her in bed.
By the time Faith returned downstairs, everyone except her in-laws had left. Marcy brought her a cup of tea and sat her on the couch after placing the sleeping infant in the bassinet.
“Are you okay, baby?” she asked, stroking Faith’s hair.
Faith looked up at her with tear-filled eyes. “I miss him, mommy. I miss him so much. He promised me that he would be home soon. In a letter written months ago. He promised...”
“Donavon is a man of honor and of his word,” Ray said gently, squeezing her shoulder. “He would never make a promise he could not keep.”
“But what if he can’t… what if…”
All heads turned to the sound of the doorbell. With a frown, Nicholas rose to answer it. An unaccompanied, uniformed young man stood at the door with an envelope in his hand.
“Mrs. Faith Fuller, please?” he asked formally.
Faith’s eyes widened as she stumbled to the door. No! This could not
be happening!
“Mom…”
“Faith, baby…” Marcy whispered, her own voice trembling. She clutched her daughter's hand tightly as they faced the young man.
“I’m Faith Fuller,” Faith whispered. Her heart pounded so loudly that she could hear it.
“Ma’am, I am pleased to inform you that your husband, and the rest of his squad, was found. They are all safe and in processing right now. " He handed Faith a piece of paper.
Ray removed it from her stunned hand, "It says that the squad contracted a disease during maneuvers and were found by some locals. They were taken into a remote village to recover. Due to the language barrier, and no access to communication or transportation, they returned by foot to base camp. Without maps or knowledge of their whereabouts, it took them much longer than expected."
"This can't be happening," Faith whispered as Sylvia burst into relieved tears in her husband's arms.
"He sent this letter to you." The courier handed her an envelope with a smile.
Faith’s eyes were too blurred to read the message. Ray cleared his throat, opening the letter…
My Darling Faith,
I am on my way home. Merry Christmas, my darling. And thank you for giving me the light of Hope that saw me through the darkest of hours
I LOVE YOU… eight little letters that tell you that I am, and always will be…
Forever Yours,
Donavon
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Eight Little Letters (I Love You) Page 8